My name is Inigo Montoya, you stole my bike, prepare to die.

My apartment maintenance stole my bike. First the wheel was stolen, then, months later, the maintenance man stole my bike. Because it looked abandoned. Well, sir, the difference between abandoned and not mobile is lost on you.  My bike was missing a wheel. Times are rough and replacing a wheel to a bike that probably wasn’t going to get ridden until the weather got nicer, was not in the financial cosmos for me. Now I am missing an entire bike. Why someone would just assume it was abandoned and remove it, without warning, is lost on me. Where was I to put my bike? I have a tiny apartment, and there is nothing to lock the bike to except the staircase, in front of my apartment. As a rent payer, this made the most sense to me. Trust me when I say I would have seen a warning, and complied with it. I look at my bike with its missing wheel every day when I come home. It depresses me. Another reminder of how life is not ideal right now. I also check to make sure everything is still intact. The bike was certainly not going to wheel me anywhere, therefore it sat. The chain became rusted due to monsoon storms. If I no longer wanted the bike, I would have sold the frame, the remaining wheel, the expensive u lock, and the basket. Or I would have said, Fuck it, and thrown it away myself. I don’t care if every other Tempe resident leaves their bike skeletons there to rot away. I was not planning on leaving it when I moved, or never touching it again. I was planning on getting a new wheel for my $200+ investment when money was a bit more flowing, so that during the cooler months, I could still enjoy riding it around to Tempe Marketplace and A mountain. I looked around for the perfect bike to suit my needs and style at an affordable price. It served me very well, until some jackass decided that he needed a pink wheel. Probably to sell for drug money. So congratulations stupid fucking bike thief, and crappy ass apartments, you have ruined my day. My week even.

In addition to that, I bought a gallon of gas with change this morning. There is nothing that says, You are a successful individual that slaved away at a job you hated and put yourself through school and finally made it out alive, like buying one gallon of gas, with change, so you can make it to another job, that pays you less than you made before you got your degree.

Life is just peachy, and I will celebrate Wednesday with copious amounts of alcohol. Cheers.

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